Smoky Silence and Provocations
by Millie
Summary: An emotional Trixie breaks down to Patsy and tumult ensues. "They had taken such great pains to make it as invisible as possible, to wipe away the remnants of what they were, what they did."


Well, now I've gone and done it. I blame Patience-Elizabeth-Mount on tumblr for forcing my hand...No, but this idea kept bugging me and so I tried to make it work. I hope it's decent and I have never claimed to be British so...I hope it sounds okay. Please enjoy and let me know if you did, or not. It's all good.

* * *

It felt like ages since she had last seen the brunette; work schedules, duties, responsibilities, saving face with Trixie, Barbara, Phyllis, et al. had prevented them from any real, quality time. The kind of time that allowed for deliberate nearness, letting their guard down.

Until these past few months of finally having Delia so very near – yet just out of reach – Patsy had not experienced such a primal urge for affection.

Patsy had never been one for overt physical regard. Perhaps an affectation from childhood, a left-over qualm. Though Delia had broken down so many barriers, had taught her how to be near, to relax into an embrace, a touch, a kiss. The months after Delia's untimely accident had produced an indescribable ache for such endearments. And now that Delia was back those intense feelings which Patsy had worked so hard to suppress after the accident – so that she could go on functioning – had only doubled in intensity.

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she made her way to her room, for this evening was a rare occasion. The stars had aligned. Neither she nor Delia were on duty. The others seemed preoccupied with meetings, duty, deliveries… The evening's plans had come furtively together.

Though as Patsy rounded the corner from a turn in the bathroom to check herself over, she found a crumpled Trixie atop her respective bed looking teary eyed and upset.

"Trix, what is it?" Patsy moved to sit near the blonde, concern clouding over her excitement.

"I didn't know you were still here, I…" Trixie wiped furiously at her eyes, as if she could take them back and pretend nothing were wrong.

"I thought you were meant to be at your meeting." Patsy fidgeted with a button on her plaid shirt. She longed for Delia then, for the Welsh woman would know exactly what to do to comfort Trixie.

"I was very much intending on going and I…yes, of course I should be there." Trixie nodded.

Patsy fiddled with her bottom lip. To ask Trixie what was wrong, or to let it go? But the blonde before her so very much looked like she needed to talk. "Well then, why aren't you?" Patsy asserted herself, knowing that Trixie – though she could have never known the true reason for her sadness – had been there for her after the accident. She owed her at least this.

Things had been rocky for Trixie since learning of Barbara and Tom. Patsy knew that Trixie had given Barbara her blessing, though she also knew the blonde was capable of putting on a brave face when she needed to.

Trixie could scarcely look her in the eyes. She sniffled, lighting up a cigarette. Smoke bellowed from her lips, passing it off to Patsy – buying time.

The blonde curled her legs up to her chest, wiping again at her cheek. "I know you think it's about Tom, but honest I couldn't be happier for Barbara." She reached out, taking the cigarette back. "I left for my meeting and found myself at a pub."

"Trixie." Patsy hated herself for the tone she caught herself using.

"I didn't have a drink." Trixie assured her. "I just, surprised myself, is all."

"That doesn't seem like it's all." Patsy took the cigarette from slightly shaky hands.

Trixie sighed, "No, I suppose it's not."

They sat in smoky silence for a moment more. Patsy chastised herself then, remembering that she had promised herself she wouldn't smoke before Delia got back. Delia never liked her lips tasting like ashes.

"It's that I see everyone so happy. Cynthia has her religion, Nurse Crane has her Spanish class, Barbara has Tom now, and you have Delia."

Patsy felt panic rise to her chest. She dragged harder on the cigarette then. "What do you mean?" She worked hard to keep the dread out of her voice.

"I just mean that you're very close, Pats." Trixie shrugged, stealing back the cigarette.

"We went to school together," Patsy frowned, "we've known one another a very long time."

Trixie just eyed her, "you don't have to be so defensive of your friendship."

"I'm not." Patsy started, fearful then of what it was Trixie might be implying. Did others suspect? They had taken such great pains to make it as invisible as possible, to wipe away the remnants of what they were, what they did.

"Pats," Trixie reached out, placing her small hand on Patsy's arm. Patsy flinched. Fingers that held their shared cigarette traced down Patsy's cheek. "I do wish you would be honest with me."

Patsy's eyes searched wide eyes, confusion etched in her features. What was Trixie playing at? Why was she so near her?

Patsy willed herself to move away, feeling uncomfortable, recognizing that Trixie was on a downward spiral of emotions. She had had an emotional day, she felt left out, she longed for something – someone. This was not how Trixie usually behaved at all. She had been so even keeled, doing so well this year.

Those little pink lips pressed to Patsy's brazenly– jerking her from her slow train of thought.

"Pats?"

Patsy turned, pushing at the small blonde body too near her own, turning to find haunted eyes staring at her with hurt, rage, pain, and humiliation from the doorway. "Deels," she whispered, pleading with her to understand that she had not been a willing participant in this out-of-character moment.

"No, don't." Delia turned on her heels, the beautiful brunette disappearing down the hall angrily.

Patsy felt frozen in place, completely flustered. The only thing she thought to do was to stand, to put distance from herself and a fearful Trixie.

"Oh, Patsy. I…"

"How dare you?" Patsy's whole being warmed, an uncontrollable rage that had never quelled from childhood flooded her system. She ripped her hands through her meticulously done-up hair.

Breathe. She reminded herself to breathe. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, tight enough to see beaming rays of light exploding before her. Trixie's apologies fell on deaf ears until she was able to reign herself in.

Once she felt her heart regulate she found herself towering over the blonde. "What is it that you were trying to prove just then?"

Trixie looked a mess, fumbling to light up another of her cigarettes. "Well, don't assume I'm so daft, Pats. I know you're not learning new card games when you're with her. I just don't get it."

"And…kissing," the word was whispered, fear of being overheard overwhelmed her, "me will clarify that?" Patsy clinched her fists.

"No, I suppose that was very stupid indeed, wasn't it? I've gone and ruined everything, haven't I?" Trixie looked so very upset, so very torn and angry with herself.

"Trix," Patsy, sat at the foot of the bed. "You know you are my dearest friend and that we…that I don't prefer Delia to you because of _that_."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Trixie sniffed back more tears.

Patsy looked rather off-put then. "Why do you think? It's not something I want to flaunt about, not with what we do, who we are."

Trixie frowned, looking down at the comforter. "You, you really love her, don't you?" Those imploring eyes met Patsy's.

Patsy swallowed, having never been able to admit it to anyone. "Yes," Patsy finally choked out, not sure why it was so hard to admit. "I do."

Trixie looked as if she were still attempting to wrap her head around the whole thing, but as she exhaled a cloud of smoke she stared squarely in Patsy's direction. "Shouldn't you go work things out with her, then? Please tell her I am very sorry, I behaved appallingly. It was a misunderstanding."

Patsy bit her lip again, not sure the ensuing conversation with the heated Welsh woman would be so easy to placate.

"Deels, please let me in. I don't want to draw more attention if a nun happens by." Patsy glanced down the barren hallway, fear clenching her chest tightly. "Delia." She hissed a little louder. "Please," she tried the handle again, wanting nothing more than to be on the other side of the door in the arms of the one person who truly knew her, who knew exactly how to comfort her. A tear slid down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away, trying the handle again. "Delia, please." Her voice broke and she cursed herself for being so emotional.

Gentle footsteps fell on the other side of the door. She listened as it slid unlocked and then a very angry Delia appeared on the other side. "What could you possibly have to say?" Her Welsh accent thick, words almost too difficult to understand.

"May I come in?" Patsy sniffled, feeling pathetic.

Delia huffed, pulling her inside and shutting the door as angrily as possible without slamming it. "What was that?"

Patsy felt herself pressed to the wall, too nervous to sit atop the bed or go nearer to the smaller woman. "A terrible misunderstanding. Trixie was having an awful day."

"So you kissed her?"

"She kissed me, unprovoked. I was only trying to be a good friend to her."

"That's quite rich, isn't it? Why would she think to kiss you?"

Patsy fiddled with her hands, wishing madly for a cigarette then. "She knows about us." She hung her head, afraid to look Delia in the eyes.

The smaller woman stared on, an array of emotions flashing through her over-animated visage before she slunk off, sitting atop her bed. "Why would she kiss you if she knew? Will she tell?" Delia seemed as fearful as Patsy had been only moments before.

"No, of course not. She would never." Patsy felt herself drawn forward, pulled towards the safety of the woman she loved. Yes, she did love her. Somehow her confirmation to Trixie had only solidified that love was exactly what it was between them.

That was if Delia would ever forgive her this transgression.

Patsy kneeled before Delia, in penance for her sins. Though she did not reach out, did not seek the contact she so desired. "She wishes for me to apologize for her misguided behavior. I don't quite think she realized or could even fathom what it is between us. I think she thought it was needed to be in my good graces, to know that I would be there for her like I am for you. Oh, but I've behaved terribly, haven't I? Deels, please. Please forgive me." The tears flowed steadily and Patsy could no more stay away.

She buried her face in Delia's lap, bereft when the brunette did not immediately embrace her as she so normally did when Patsy was upset.

"She was only confused by it all, then?" Delia's voice had steadied.

Patsy nodded against her lap, unable to tear herself away from the feel of Delia beneath her, the flowery smell that was inherently the Welsh woman's. "'stupid." Patsy muttered against her thigh.

"She has given us her blessing?" Delia's hand moved to cover Patsy's head, stroking the ruined beehive beneath her fingers.

"Yes, she was absolutely mortified by her actions." Patsy sighed. "She insisted that she will testify to the fact that I have been in my room the entire evening." She added for good measure, hoping that Delia would not turn her away now. Patsy turned her head to stare at the wall, hoping and praying that Delia would not punish her all evening. The lithe fingers of the Welsh woman tracing over her scalp seemed to hint at the entryway to forgiveness.

Delia hummed to herself, as if considering all that had just transpired.

Finally, she pulled Patsy's head up to look at her. She must look a fright but Delia only looked down at her with the utmost care and concern.

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Patsy's forehead. "I suppose popping out to the café is quite out of the question now."


End file.
